


The Masquerade With Malice

by raindropsonevermore



Category: Getaway Car - Taylor Swift (Song), Original Work, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Character, POV Third Person, Partners in Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raindropsonevermore/pseuds/raindropsonevermore
Summary: In a different universe near Westport, Marjorie and her fiancé Alan work together to commit unlawful acts to benefit their own wealth whilst under masquerade-like appearances to conceal their identities, until someone new enters the picture.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	1. I

Marjorie Hayes was twenty-four years old when she leaped from the second-story terrace of a suburban home in the middle of Aurora, Colorado, during the dark and quiet hours of an August night. She, like always, was joined alongside her fiancé Alan whom with she would create a life of crime in order to gain their wealth; Marjorie had inherited some wealth after the loss of her step-father, sharing her earnings with Alan. For the crimes they would use every way possible to hide their identities from the police and the public. Marjorie was fascinated by masquerades and disguising, and had several masquerade masks that she and Alan would don when they should. She always felt attractive and thought she had an admirable body, and often for the crimes she would choose to wear suits, especially black ones made from faux leather that would fit her form. She would try to search her masks for a match with her suits; she wanted people to know she and Alan were together. Their masks would nearly always match in some shape or form. They would be silver, gold, black, and had unique designs that made them stand out. Marjorie's masks, though, had sometimes been different from Alan's. Hers could have a shape like that of the face of a cat, fox, even a wolf, or be made with lace and often shimmer in the light with their metallic look and the glitter that was used for the designs to make them noticeable. Besides the masks, Marjorie had owned multiple realistic wigs that could quickly hide her natural black locks. She and Alan went to the home of a family who had been away for the week. They would search throughout the home for items they deemed valuable, especially jewelry, and removed their masks upon entering when they knew they wouldn't be seen by others. Together they were searching through the rooms on the second floor for anything when Alan had turned towards an east-facing window after hearing loud but distant sirens that were coming from a police vehicle—which to his surprise had not arrived on the street of the home, or that was, until there were sirens again that were again loud, but they were not as distant as before. They were close.

Alan felt on high alert after hearing the sirens while Marjorie had been distracted by the bedroom they were in. _Marjorie!_ was what Alan had shouted in a quiet tone to alert her. She knew but would not cease her search. While Alan bolted for the stairs to leave through the side door while equipping his mask, Marjorie had suddenly decided she did enough. She was afraid of following Alan's path. The bedroom had a French door that led outside to a private balcony. The height to the ground was difficult—it overlooked the garden and part of the roof, and out there had she seen Alan near the door where he left and he looked up to see her. She quickly put her mask on, before jumping over the rail onto the small section of the roof where Alan saw her sign that she had to be caught. She successfully landed in his arms before they would run to their jet black Range Rover that they would flee in. Marjorie caught a glimpse of a resident from another house who had seen them head for the car and was making their way towards them. The neighbor was highly aware there was an issue.

"Go, go, go!" Marjorie had screamed as they quickly fled from the civilian. She and Alan intended no harm but were always armed in some way if they ever felt that they were threatened from finishing their crimes. She grabbed her pistol and kept it in her grip in the event that they could have quickly been followed by police. They had managed to escape from the oncoming police car and return to their home, removing their masks before walking in. Alan would help Marjorie remove the blonde wig she had worn, before admiring her body in her suit as he stood behind her. Marjorie had a strong sex drive with her fondness of her appearance and was sexually active with Alan. They would decide to fuck after their successful night, using protection as normal as to keep Marjorie from becoming pregnant. She had no interest in children, and was easily bothered by their lack of staying quiet and being needy. She was impatient, especially when she wanted to have sex, often realizing she would have to try to seduce Alan to get what she wanted.

That had happened two weeks ago. They had refrained from continuing their crimes for the fortnight, after Alan explained to Marjorie they would be "soon vacationing" in a nearby city called Westport. They would be staying in the nicest hotel in the city—but their reason for their one-week stay would not be for a vacation—near the hotel was a large bank. To them a large bank meant a large sum of money that would be highly beneficial to them. It almost seemed like a possible hostage for them, staying armed but mostly passive in order to gather the earnings. They would keep their identities revealed, not wearing masks or wigs until they were to visit the bank. They would arrive in Westport on September 7th, settling in their suite that was finished with a comforting fireplace near the bed. Marjorie saw the environment as an opportunity for more sex before she were to begin menstruating again. The hotel's lobby was massive, and had a bar near the entrance where Marjorie and Alan would visit that night. The bar had plenty of seating for others besides the bar itself, and a lounge with more comfortable seating where several people could drink together. They would sit nowhere besides the bar, though, where they had their drinks and discussed anything but the bank. Marjorie left for the restroom, where as she left it to return to Alan she noticed a group of people eyeing her as she passed. A man and a woman from the group both winked at her, Marjorie ignoring them; she had more to focus on, that being the plans for hijacking the bank with her fiancé. It wouldn't begin for three days, them choosing to spend the next 36 hours in the city and relaxing at the hotel before they would cause chaos.

They would return to the bar on the night before they would head to the bank. It was when they had just received their drinks that Marjorie noticed that Alan had been failing to give her attention, something she hated.

"You know, I never would have thought this hotel would—" Marjorie said, before suddenly noticing Alan had appeared as if he wasn't listening like he normally would. "Hello?" Marjorie's tone changed had sounded calm and almost seductive, a tone she would often have when talking to Alan. "Alan?"

"I'm trying to focus here, Marjorie," He said.

"Focus on what?" She asked, her tone beginning to change to express that she was bothered. "Your fucking drink?"

"You know what I want to focus on. You would be too, _wouldn't_ you?" He asked her, finally making eye contact with her.

"Why here? Where we could be in our room where it's actually private?" Marjorie asked him. The tension that was beginning to strike had made her feel aroused, like she wanted to get enough alcohol in her before they would return to the room where she would hope they could discuss the bank after sex.

"If you're referring to sex at all, forget about it. Haven't you thought about the plan at all since we arrived?" Marjorie didn't reply, but just continued to glare at him instead. "Forget it, Marjorie. We can talk about it but you need to realize that's the reason we came here."

"I'll be back," Marjorie said, finishing her drink before standing up from her seat.

"Where are you going?" Alan asked her.

"Fuck you, Alan," She replied in a calm yet annoyed tone as she began walking towards the restroom.

Marjorie passed the small lounge where she once saw that group that consisted of friends that included the two who had given her a wink. Nobody had been sat there at the moment, but the image of the six had still been in her mind. She entered the restroom, where she had not gone for privacy, but to escape Alan. She stood at the long counter that had multiple sinks and a wide mirror, her hands placed on the edge of the counter in front of the sink she was at. She didn't make eye contact with herself, but kept her head low to inhale and exhale as a way of calming herself.

That was how it had been, before Marjorie heard footsteps that were like stilettos clacking on the ceramic tile floor, which soon stopped and had become an interesting voice.

Marjorie recognized the voice.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hearing a familiar voice in the hotel bar, Marjorie meets a new but recognizable face.

The voice Marjorie heard while calming herself in the bar's restroom was sudden but familiar to her. The voice softly said "bonjour" and the sound of walking on the tile was beside her. Through Marjorie's peripherals she saw a woman, but the image of her wasn't clear. She didn't want to focus on her—she was still thinking about Alan's sudden change from giving most of his attention to her to only thinking about the bank and how their plan would play out. Marjorie had still been thinking to herself and taking deep breaths when she noticed the woman beside her had turned towards her.

"Are you alright, _mademoiselle_?" She asked. Her French accent was beautiful and calm. Marjorie had kept focusing on herself before deciding to look up at the woman.

"I am, thank you," Marjorie replied. "Do I know you?" She recognized her after hearing her voice. She was the woman she had seen in the bar before, who had winked at her as she had a drink in hand.

"Do I know _you_?" The woman asked her, chuckling before. "Your man seems to be giving you a problem, is he not?" The question shook Marjorie. The woman had been very unaware she was talking to someone who had stolen from people and places and was soon to threaten an entire bank of its possessions.

"He's very...inattentive, per se," Marjorie told her. She knew she had to create a lie to not appear suspicious. "It's as if he doesn't want to talk to me or be near me, not even sleep with me."

"This man of yours, what is he like?" She asked as she had looked at herself in the mirror and began touching up her makeup.

Marjorie described Alan to her the way he had been—a charming gentleman, very respectful and normally well-behaved, well-groomed and handsome. She found ways around not hinting at their collection of masquerade masks or what they had been used for.

"Would he be fucking another woman?" She asked Marjorie.

"It would be unlike him," Marjorie responded.

"I dislike men but you are very interesting, if I am honest," She said back. "I'm Amelie."

"Marjorie." She told Amelie. Together they returned to the bar, and she noticed Alan saw them coming. He watched as they sat at the dark sofa, the same place where Marjorie first saw Amelie, and together they had drank champagne.

"You didn't happen to be watching me, were you?" Marjorie asked Amelie.

"I were not," Amelie said. "But you are very beautiful." As Amelie said that Marjorie noticed her directing her eyes up and down.

"Only Alan has told me that," Marjorie said.

"He would seem to be watching us often," She said. "Is he a jealous one?"

"No, never," Marjorie began. "He does like to show that I'm not single. But we do trust each other very much, Amelie." As they talked Marjorie would frequently look at Alan. Sometimes he would be looking at them, other times he would not be and would be finishing his drink. "You wouldn't happen to be great with relationships, would you?"

"I would not," Amelie answered. "I haven't had many loves, for I am a lesbian."

"You _have_ been with other women though, have you not?"

"I have. Women from Paris, Stockholm, Berlin, many places in Europe; and then there was one American from the northwest but she is not here now."

"She was here?"

"The other day, oui, but she has returned to California. Maybe you saw her with my friends and I?"

"I did, but may I ask, who was the man that had winked at me the way you did?"

"James. He is from here but he had come to France in the past decade. I met him at fifteen, and we were in love. That was until I learned I don't give a fuck about men. I met my girlfriend in Paris at seventeen, and three years ago we left each other and she has married a sexy French model now."

"So you would be single now?"

"I would be."

"Excuse me a minute," Marjorie said. She had placed her drink on the table and walked over to Alan, who had just been looking over at them. "You're very interested in our conversation, aren't you?"

"Do you think she's beautiful, Marjorie?" Alan asked her. Marjorie was bisexual, and was very fond of women as much as men and others. She had never been with a woman, though, but to her she almost felt that her relationship with Alan was being threatened by Amelie's presence.

"Oh, so you think I want to leave you?" She asked, crossing her arms and her tone had began to sound like she had become angry. "She's very lovely, wouldn't you think the same about your fiancé?"

"It's too hot in here." Alan said, immediately standing up to make way to the lobby to step outside. Marjorie watched him leave before returning to Amelie, who had been watching them the same way Alan watched his bride-to-be with another woman.

"He is very pissed, isn't he?" Amelie asked Marjorie.

"He would be," She said. "Just like I was."

Marjorie continued talking with Amelie for the rest of the hour. They finished their share of champagne, before Amelie invited Marjorie to her room that had been on the same floor as her and Alan's room. Their rooms were alike, having the same fireplace, a magnificent view of the city lights, and a lone bed. There was an azure-colored sofa near the fireplace where they sat together and learned much of each other.

"Do you like to fuck?" Amelie suddenly asked, making Marjorie blush.

"I could say I am quite fond of it," Marjorie replied. "Alan and I were very...active, but after tonight I'm not so sure. He mentioned it and he wants me to forget about it."

"So you wanted to fuck, but he does not." Amelie said. "I overheard you say that I was 'lovely?' You would seem to have interest in women as well, wouldn't you?" Marjorie noticed Amelie move slightly closer to her.

"I definitely _would_ ," Marjorie said with a stutter. "But I'm engaged, Amelie. I'm very focused on my relationship, but not so much my spouse, at the moment."

"Your remaining interest in stupid men will always be very strange to me, Marjorie." Amelie said with her glass of champagne in her hand. She took a drink before setting it on the small table beside her, then looking at Marjorie as she had been taking a drink. Marjorie noticed, stopping her drink to look at Amelie.

"Yes, Amelie?" Marjorie asked with confusion before she placed her drink on the other table.

Amelie didn't respond, but used her right hand to cup Marjorie's face to begin kissing her. It was only a short time before it was over and Marjorie was surprised. Neither of them would speak. They continued to kiss each other, before breaking it to stand up to move closer to the single bed. They stood between the bed and the fireplace, cupping each other's faces when they stopped to look each other in the eyes. Marjorie had never noticed Amelie's eyes before. They were alluring, with a beautiful blue in them and they were bright and seemed perfect with the mascara and eyeliner that finished them.

"I'm sorry, Marjorie," Amelie said, releasing her hands from Marjorie's jawline. "Should we...?"

"Don't be," Marjorie said. "I must say you have gorgeous eyes." Her hands were still cupped to Amelie's face; she had been waiting patiently for something like this.

"Are you sure this is alright?" Amelie asked her, placing a hand on Marjorie's waist. Marjorie slowly nodded, before they began to kiss again. Together they sat in the center of the bed, where Marjorie could feel the warmth of Amelie's hands suddenly on her shoulders and all over her torso. Their clothing had piled up on the floor beside the bed. They were lying down, Marjorie's right hand on Amelie's shoulder blade and the other on her lower back. Amelie had moved her lips to Marjorie's neck, collarbone and clavicle. She could hear Marjorie begin to moan softly. Their sudden sex was incredible, Marjorie felt almost as if she never had sex like it before. Of course she was with a woman this time and not Alan, but to her Amelie made it feel like sex was new to her; her grip on Amelie's back would sometimes intensify, signifying the pleasure that she felt at her neck and between her legs. At the moment she hadn't felt too much like she wanted, but with the current way Amelie had been she knew that would change quickly. Suddenly Amelie had moved from her clavicle to her abdomen, Marjorie never knowing the intense feeling of anyone's lips upon her chest or stomach. Alan would only kiss her on the mouth and neck during sex, which did enough for her sex drive, but what Amelie had been doing made her feel stunned. Their sex hadn't lasted too long and Marjorie could feel the rising pressure of an orgasm in her body. She wanted to preserve the feeling, but also wanted to feel what it would be like to receive that pleasure from Amelie's touch. It was only another minute or two before Marjorie couldn't resist it. Internally her muscles were contracting to cause the powerful release, externally her heavy breathing was almost moving Amelie's body as she broke their kiss. She had been correct about their sex—Amelie made it feel like a new experience, her orgasm had been different from what Alan would give her. As she was trying to catch her breath it had been clear to her that Amelie was still waiting for hers. It was like a second round for Marjorie. The following minutes had consisted of Amelie having her orgasm that was just as powerful, but the continuous sex had made Marjorie have another, not so powerful, while her body still had felt sensitive from her first. It was half-past eleven when they stopped, Marjorie's hand in Amelie's hair as her head lied on her chest.

"You have fucked women before, haven't you?" Marjorie asked her, still trying to catch her breath.

"And now you have." Amelie said, somehow giving Marjorie an answer.

Marjorie had a great release of oxytocin in her body that always followed an orgasm. She was relaxed with Amelie, almost forgetting that her room with Alan had been on the same floor. She had began to wonder if Alan was asleep, or waiting for her to return to the room. It was odd to her, though, that she had felt like she and Amelie were close; she felt that she could tell Amelie about reality. That she and Alan had been hiding their identities for crime, that they were preparing for their next plan.

"Could I tell you something?" They said to each other simultaneously. 

"You first." Marjorie said as she was stroking Amelie's dark hair.

"I was a bit of a troubled woman in my years," She said. "After James and I left each other, I may have made an attempt to harm him."

"You tried to kill him? Marjorie asked. "At fifteen?"

"I did," Amelie said. "He reported me to police. But it was in the moment I realized it would have not been worth his life or mine. Even if I don't give a shit about men."

"You wouldn't be alone, I suppose," Marjorie said. "Alan and I are wanted." As she said that Amelie raised her head and looked into Marjorie's eyes.

"What have you done?" She asked.

"We're the masquerade," Marjorie said calmly. "That's why nobody has recognized us. We're without masks and my hair isn't another color."

"But you have only been in Aurora, non?" Amelie asked.

"We came here for a reason, yes," Marjorie said. "I must not tell you. Alan would be very unhappy with me."

"You have just fucked a woman, Marjorie," Amelie said. "And our sex was much more than what you had with him, was it not?"

Marjorie slept well with Amelie that night. Their talks together before it were marvelous; they would ruin she and Alan's plans for the bank while Amelie still had not known of them. The next morning would have been the day of. Marjorie didn't care if Alan was waiting for her in their room down the corridor, for her focus was far beyond the bank now. Marjorie woke up facing Amelie, and Amelie facing her. She sat up in the bed, looking at Amelie as she suddenly awoke. They didn't speak to each other, but rather Amelie moving up to cup Marjorie's face with one hand to kiss her. 

"It's today, Amelie," Marjorie softly said.

Together they left Amelie's room to walk to the elevator to go to the lobby. The elevator had been past Marjorie's room with Alan, where she used her key to the room to walk in as Amelie went to to lobby alone. Alan had been having a shower, still with the door to the bathroom closed even though he had been alone for hours. Marjorie was able to collect her luggage and other things, leaving nothing behind but a piece of paper that she had kissed with her ruby red lipstick and her room key. She met Amelie in the lobby, where together they walked out of the hotel and headed to the parking lot.

It was that moment that the bank was no longer a concern.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days following Marjorie's one-night stand with Amelie, she returns to her home in Aurora where she encounters someone she thought she had left behind.

It was September 13th—three days after Marjorie and Alan were meant to hijack the bank in Westport. It never happened, nobody besides them knew it would have, and for the four days before that Marjorie had been with Amelie in her apartment. She had nowhere to be after leaving Alan in their hotel, the same morning they were to check out as Amelie. She didn't want to return home alone, not even with Alan, and Amelie had invited her to her apartment for the short time before she broke the news to Marjorie that she would be returning to her home in France for some time. They weren't in a relationship or having sex, but Amelie offered to her that she could stay at her apartment until she came back into the country, or Marjorie could _possibly_ try to go back to Aurora if she wanted. Marjorie didn't decide. She would rather wait out the seventy-two hours before Amelie would leave to make her decision.

The day came, and Amelie was gone. She left Marjorie in her apartment while she caught a taxi for the airport. It suddenly became very quiet and there was no sound besides the ambiance of the distant noises that were almost like they were inside the walls—the different residents surrounding the apartment doing what they had been in their own. Marjorie would eat what she could, do what she wanted, live like it was her own place until the hours passed. She became lonely and bored, doing nothing else but passing two hours by watching a film. She adored the city lights through the wide windows as she was padding across the wooden floors. It only had been seven o'clock before she would decide she wanted to leave the apartment—she wanted to leave for Aurora. She gathered all she had brought to the hotel, writing a note for Amelie and leaving it placed on the wall in the vicinity of the front door. Marjorie caught a bus in town—her only mode of transportation as her and Alan's car had been left at the hotel for him. It was a long hour before she had arrived in Aurora at a stop near the center. That wasn't the end, though, when she had take a cab back home. No car; Alan was gone at the moment. Marjorie had her own key to the house and entered to see that it seemed as if Alan knew she would return. She discovered his mask he had taken with them to the hotel, with a note beside it, reading:

**Beloved Marjorie,**

**I have been here longing for your return, with hopes that you...**

The note abruptly ended. Marjorie had been curious why he had not finished it, and what had paused him from doing so. She headed to the second floor where their bedroom was and she entered the room to see that some of her masquerade masks had been misplaced. One on her vanity and two on the bed. She thought that Alan may have been gathering them to possibly discard them if she were to not come back or another reason. Marjorie stepped over to her black vanity where her black and navy blue mask had been. Beside it was her photo of she and Alan together from three years before. She picked it up to look closer at it, to admire it. It had only been less than half a minute when she heard footsteps through the front door. It was Alan. She quickly placed the photo back and returned downstairs to see him looking at her luggage, then look up at her as he stood before her. They stared at each other for a short time before it hit Marjorie that he was there.

"Alan, thank God!" Marjorie exclaimed, hugging him.

"Where in the hell were you?!" He asked her, surprised.

"I was upset, and I left, I'm sorry," Marjorie apologized. "The woman from the bar kindly offered me to stay in her room and then her apartment. Don't be worried, she's about to leave the country for awhile. I saw your note, and I have been thinking of you while I was away. Are you mad about the bank?"

"Actually, Marjorie, we should be _relieved_ ," He said. "Someone—haven't you heard?"

"Heard..what?" Marjorie asked, confused.

"We could have been completely fucked," He said. "Somebody from the hotel reported that they caught a small glimpse of your mask in your bag while they were in our room and thought it was highly suspicious, knowing how close Aurora and Westport are. That could have been bad for us."

"My God, Alan, I'm sorry," Marjorie said. "I wanted to be prepared but I thought I tried to keep my mask hidden...just in case."

"Don't worry about it now," He said. "You're here. I was almost concerned, but now that you're back, could I take you to dinner?"

"Of course, Alan," She said.

Marjorie and Alan dressed not too formal for their dinner. They both wore plenty of black, Marjorie selecting a dress from her wardrobe that she fit her beautifully and made her feel attractive. They ate well and had some glasses of champagne together, but not enough to get them intoxicated. They didn't linger at the restaurant for long, quickly returning home where Marjorie had decided she would remove her makeup before being interrupted by Alan, who was stood closely behind her. He placed his hands on her waist and began to kiss her neck.

"Are you going to allow us to fuck for once?" Marjorie asked, knowing she had begun to miss their sex. She knew it was great with Amelie, but didn't want to inform him that they slept together once. As they stood there together Alan had turned Marjorie towards him to kiss her, and she had felt one of his hands move to her back in an attempt to remove her dress. Their intimate moment grew closer to sex, and it alarmed Marjorie that they were moving too quickly—she knew her menstrual cycle well, and didn't want to risk not using protection if she could still have been fertile. She knew they were good with protection, but knowing they were longing for sleeping with each other that if it didn't occur to them to use it that there was a small chance she could get pregnant. She didn't have to remind him—he remembered. It was after they finished that he told her, when she had been catching her breath from her orgasm that was like what she felt when she was with Amelie. The thought of Amelie wasn't on her mind, she missed Alan, and their sex together had never been like how it had just happened.

"You know, Marjorie, maybe we could find another bank somewhere," Alan said. "In an entirely different city, if you would be interested in that."

"Why not try Aurora again?" She asked. "And do better this time?"

"Don't you think that could be a risk?" He asked her. "The hotel knew about your mask. The city knows about your mask. If they see one of our masks again then we're fucked. We could go to Denver, but maybe wait out some time, so there's no suspicions."

"Sounds great, Alan," Marjorie said, as she turned from her side to lay on her back to look at Alan.

* * *

Marjorie and Alan would choose to not leave for Denver until the start of October. Between September 14th and October 1st, nobody saw a crime from the masquerade or any sight of them. The city of Westport had confirmed that there was no threat of them. Amelie returned from Nice on September 25th, and she and Marjorie had continued to communicate with each other through messaging. She told Marjorie she had heard the news that people knew they were in Aurora but was relieved they were never found. Marjorie explained to her that she and Alan weren't angry with each other anymore, and their relationship had returned to the state it was before. She almost felt sorry for Amelie, after hearing the soft "Oh" that came from her. She understood Amelie was a lesbian and was great at sex, but Marjorie hadn't felt much for her. She decided she would inform Amelie about their visit to Denver, though, and to Marjorie's surprise she said she would visit the city at the same time as them. Their conversation ended at a perfect time as Alan had walked in the door; Marjorie didn't want him to know Amelie would be in Denver when they would be.

Soon September 30th arrived, and Marjorie and Alan left for Denver. They were to stay in a massive hotel again, with a bank being a mere five minutes from it. Their plan would be similar from before, and they would wait to visit the bank until four days later. When they arrived at their hotel Marjorie had expected to see Amelie there, but the entire day passed and she was nowhere in sight. The second day, nowhere. The third day, she was there. Marjorie and Alan had been exploring the lobby when she saw Amelie in her peripheral view, bolting towards her to greet her. She introduced her to Alan, who this time had not been upset that she was there. On the night she arrived they met at the restaurant inside the hotel, which for Amelie was somewhat awkward, seeing Marjorie and Alan being together while she had been single. They would have drinks at the restaurant, then move to the bar on the opposite side of the lobby. Inside the bar they sat together, Alan on Marjorie's right side and Amelie on the left. Alan didn't mind that Amelie had been there, but knew he had no chance to privately discuss their plans about the bank with her. As they were drinking Alan excused himself to use the restroom. For Amelie this felt like an opportunity for her, knowing how much she and Marjorie had become close on the night they had sex.

"So, Marjorie, how has Alan been treating you?" Amelie asked.

"You know what I said, Amelie," She replied. "He's not angry, I'm not angry, and we still fuck."

"May I tell you something, Marjorie?" Amelie asked her, watching Marjorie nod her head as she was taking a drink. "You are very beautiful and mysterious, mysterious unlike the others I have been with." Amelie was great at making Marjorie feel flattered. Marjorie thought Amelie was gorgeous, and often had thought about their night in September, but still didn't think she had meant much to her in the way that Alan did. Marjorie didn't say anything to her, but knew the rose blush in her cheeks would have been visible enough. She placed her drink on the table and looked up at Amelie, about to speak. That was when Amelie used one hand to cup Marjorie's face to kiss her, and it had ended the moment Alan returned. The night grew, and Alan mentioned to Marjorie that they should return to their room for the night because the following day would be "big" signifying their heist at the bank. Marjorie said _goodnight_ to Amelie, and as Amelie winked at her as she was taking a drink of her champagne, and suddenly they were gone.

"Did you enjoy Amelie's presence, Marjorie?" Alan asked her as they entered their room.

"Excuse me?" She said. She was confused by his tone, and it had made her feel that something wasn't right.

"She likes you, Mar," He said. "A lot. She panned her eyes across your body at least six times, including the two times she looked at your tits."

"And does that mean _I_ like her, Alan?" Marjorie asked. "It sure as fuck does not."

"Goodnight, Marjorie," He said, sighing before he spoke. "Tomorrow's our day, and we should rest."

And they did. Marjorie slept well, and the following morning they thought they would kill a few hours in their room to make their final plans before they would leave at eleven o'clock. She didn't want Alan to be convinced that she and Amelie weren't having an affair, but made an attempt to get him to agree to shower with her, to which he chose not to. He had a shower before she would, and as she sat on the bed waiting she had an idea. She quickly changed her clothes and did her hair, gathered her belongings and went to the third floor where Amelie's room was. She arrived and knocked on her door, and to her surprise Amelie had answered quickly. 

"Marjorie?" Amelie said, surprised to see her. "It's early, and your fiancé's cologne is lingering on you."

"Can I kiss you?" Marjorie asked.

" _You_ want to kiss me?" Amelie asked her, blushing with confusion. She let her in, and upon shutting the door Marjorie suddenly pinned Amelie against it to kiss her. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Could I have your consent?"

"You want us to fuck?"

"And I need a shower."

"You..could have both, but you do look great in faux leather, if I'm being honest."

"I want you to shower _with_ me, Amelie. Alan rejected me."

The following time they spent had consisted of sensual kissing and trying to undress each other until they entered the shower where they spent ten minutes there, distracted by the warmth of the water and the heat of their bodies. Marjorie didn't want them to actually attempt to have any form of sex there, but their shower itself had made them feel as if they did have sex. Their grip of each other had been comfortable with their hand placements, the touch of Amelie's lips on Marjorie's neck was soothing but made her neck feel as if there were flames spreading on it. Neither of them could have an orgasm while standing. They didn't mind, though, and the majority of Marjorie's sexual desire felt fulfilled. 

"We need to leave, Amelie," Marjorie said, her tone making it clear she was becoming worried.

"Is it Alan?" Amelie asked.

"Yes, it fucking is," She said. "If I go back to our room he's going to be pissed. He's not one to do this but he could endanger my life if he knew what's happening."

Marjorie and Amelie quickly left her room and exited the hotel. She felt lucky they had a car—Marjorie knew how to drive but didn't do it often, especially when she and Alan were in a rush; Amelie had learned to drive in the States long after she first arrived. With that, she and Amelie immediately fled Denver and had no decision but to return to Westport. An hour had passed when Marjorie and Amelie had been listening to music in their car, escaping in the autumn morning when she received a call—a call that Alan had made from the phone in their hotel room.

_"Where have you gone to, Marjorie?!"_

"It's great to hear your voice, too. Anywho, Alan, I think you would love to know. For the past hour I've been in a getaway car, I would suppose."

_"You've taken our car?"_

"I have. With a French woman, as well. Don't bother waiting for me, asshole."

_"Marjorie, you need to explain yourself, and do it real fucking quick."_

"Our relationship ended in the hotel bar. Both of them. In Aurora, Amelie and I were fucking while you were asleep. Last night she kissed me in the bar and this morning I was gone. _You_ didn't want to shower with your fiancé like she politely asked, but you should be glad I have a friend who _did_ agree to shower with me. Do you want to know how she fucks, Alan?"

_"How, Marjorie? Go on and tell me."_

"You can't and don't do it like her. You could do it one time, Alan."

_"Then maybe I should ask her about it for myself."_

"Don't try. They're looking for you, and you know it. It's over for you, Alan."

_"What the hell did you do, Marjorie?"_

"You haven't noticed? The money's in the bag and I fucking stole the keys. This morning was the last time you ever saw me."

_"Well, now they're coming, my beloved."_

"Good. You honestly shouldn't be surprised that I made the tough decision to turn you in to the police. You immediately saw your bride as a traitor, and I chose to live up to that, because it's very rare that us traitors actually win, you know? I'm not _your_ beloved anymore. Fuck you and all you've got left, Alan."

Marjorie ended the call without hearing another word from Alan. The situation back at the hotel was progressing quickly. It was directly after she and Amelie left when she phoned the police, pretending she had been an employee. She informed them that she had been "responding to an order for room service" when she had caught a glimpse of a glimmering mask inside the room and thought there was a threat. The police had arrived at the hotel within ten minutes and began searching for Alan in an instant. Marjorie had faked her loss of remembering the room number, only saying that the room was on the fourth floor. Their room was the third on the left. The police had already searched the previous five before they caught Alan, discovering his two masks he had with him and arrested him. Marjorie wanted it to be as if he had been alone, and completely wiped the room of her fingerprints. If he were to tell them his fiancé had fled and called him, they would fail to trace the call. They always kept an additional phone with them that was only meant for emergencies, and Marjorie had taken Alan's phone so it couldn't be searched. He had called Marjorie's personal phone first, which she refused to answer because she didn't know who was on the other side, until the spare phone had been contacted from the same number.

"Still am I in disbelief you turned in the man you were going to marry, Marjorie," Amelie said. "I didn't think you could be such a bad bitch, honestly."

"Did you just call me a bitch?" Marjorie asked, softly chuckling. "Do you think he deserved it, though?" Her tone had begun to sound as if she regret it.

"You said if he found out he could hurt you," She said. "Tell me, what other things has he done besides committing crimes with you?"

"He shot someone," Marjorie said. "Someone saw us. In their house. It was just us against them, and they threatened each other. He shot them so we could flee, Amelie."

"He's not going to get out, _amour_ ," said Amelie. "And if he does then I'll take care of it."

Another hour and a half passed before they arrived in Westport. Upon entering Amelie's apartment they had learned from the media of Denver that Alan was taken into custody and his "fiancé had yet to be found." The news worried Marjorie. She knew she had eliminated any chance that she could be found, but she wanted to give up on increasing her chance of it happening.

"I can't do it anymore, Amelie," She said. "If I do more shit, then even you won't be seeing me."

"Marjorie, everything's alright now," Amelie said with a calming tone, placing one hand on Marjorie's waist and the other on her shoulder. "You can stop like I did, and we can live our lives and nobody would even know it's you."

Marjorie didn't reply but instead moved her hand to Amelie's lower back to bring her closer to her to kiss her. Amelie stopped to look at her, when Marjorie had slowly asked her if they could go to her bedroom, to which Amelie had agreed. When they entered her room Amelie had done what Marjorie did to her before—she pinned Marjorie against the door once it was closed, kissing her before moving to her neck.

"Amelie, wait," Marjorie said, causing Amelie to stop and look at her. "Should we be doing this?"

"This _is_ what you wanted, isn't it?" Amelie asked her. "Do you miss Alan?"

"I don't even fucking know," She said. "But you do fuck greater than he could."

"And what if we _do_ fuck?" Amelie asked, stroking her fingers through Marjorie's hair that was draped against her shoulder. She tried to make it clear to Marjorie that she wanted them to have sex as well, and she knew that they both had enjoyed their time with each other before. "Maybe we didn't finish earlier, Marjorie. Is..this okay with you?"

Marjorie nodded before kissing her. Quickly they had moved closer to Amelie's bed, and their hands were on each other's shoulders—they became eager for touch. The beat of their hearts had increased as their desire was strong. Finally they had been comforting each other beneath Amelie's duvet, only exposing their half of their torsos and legs for the cool air that would help cease the intense body heat that came with sexual pleasure. Amelie had continued what she did before by kissing Marjorie on her lips and neck while their bodies gently touched. Marjorie had moved one of her hands into Amelie's hair and the other she had began stroking her neck with her fingertips, almost gripping onto her neck as waves of pleasure hit them like the fierce waves of the ocean crashing onto high cliffs. Amelie released herself from Marjorie's grasp so she could kiss her in different places across her body before returning to her lips. She had her orgasm first and Marjorie's soon followed. Amelie lied on her side to face Marjorie and placed her hand on her waist.

"May I ask you a question, Amelie?" Marjorie asked.

"You just did," Amelie said, giggling at her response. "Oui."

"How many women have you had sex with?" She asked, suddenly placing her hand on Amelie's head.

"Only three," said Amelie. "But the one from London was something else. She tried to put me into handcuffs." Her answer made Marjorie blush more than she already had been as a result of their sex. It seemed clear to her that Amelie hadn't been interested in sex _that_ way, and neither had she. "May _I_ ask you a question as well?"

"We just fucked for the second time, Amelie," Marjorie said. "Ask away."

"I have been thinking, Marjorie," Amelie said, almost stuttering and suddenly let out a sigh. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

"I _would_ , Amelie" Marjorie answered.

And then Amelie had leaned on her arm to support her body so she could look at Marjorie. They made eye contact for some time, even admiring each other's features before Amelie leaned down to kiss her. Besides the sex they just had everything else that was about to happen had made Marjorie realize that her life was about to become different than it had been before. Alan was no longer in her life, only a formerly troubled woman from France, and Marjorie wanted her life to change for the best.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the start of Marjorie's relationship with Amelie, nobody sees any crime from Marjorie alone until a certain day in Amelie's life arrives.

Marjorie and Amelie had been in their relationship for two months when they visited Aurora to return to the home where Marjorie and Alan once were. Ever since they fled from the hotel in Denver, the police had been asking the civilians for help if they were to ever see a woman wearing a masquerade mask of any kind; weeks passed and nobody had seen Marjorie in person. Multiple holidays had passed and it was on New Year's Eve when they were in Aurora. When they entered the home the vibe Marjorie felt from it was like somebody had passed away in the house before being found. Everything had been left as it was since they left for Denver, but not as clean, and also cold and quiet. When she entered the bedroom they once slept in together she noticed dust collecting on her masks that been been mounted on the wall. The ones that were alike the faces of a fox, a wolf, and a cat had collected the most. She rarely wore them for crime, and the sight of them had made her think that she knew Alan was fond of them—he thought she was intimidating when she would wear them, but in a way that he liked but she didn't. She wore the cat mask _once_ when she and him were about to sleep with each other one night but removed it before they had sex.

On that night they had been in the living room together where they could see through the clear windows the bright colors that illuminated the night sky as people rang in the new year. They had been drinking champagne and conversing with each other, not interested in the loud bursts from the fireworks. Marjorie had been comfortable in the house with Amelie, but the thoughts about Alan and her memories of them had continued to come and go overtime.

"May I tell you something, Amelie? Marjorie asked her. "Something I've never told anyone in months." She and Amelie took a drink of champagne together before she would speak again. "I once had a miscarriage."

"You got pregnant?" Amelie asked her with a shocked tone. "What happened and when _did_ this happen?"

"January was the beginning, I should say," Marjorie said. "Alan and I chose to not use protection one night. I found out and we decided we wanted to have the baby, which we knew was a risk while its parents were doing crime together. One day in April when we had been planning a break-in I suddenly didn't feel right and it was like I started menstruating for the first time. Alan took me to a hospital and my baby was dead. We didn't make it to learn its gender. And now I refuse to have a child."

"I'm sorry, my love," Amelie said. "But why do you choose to not have children now, if I may ask?"

"They're needy, constantly wet themselves and don't keep their damn mouths shut," She said. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I haven't seen a baby since my previous girlfriend from Stockholm had a baby," Amelie said. "And her baby was quiet as fuck. But now that it's almost the new year, Marjorie, isn't there _anything_ else you would like to do?"

"We're not going to fuck, Amelie," Marjorie said.

"What if I wore one of your suits?" Amelie asked.

"It's not happening," She said, chuckling. "You can wear one of my suits or dresses but I can guarantee you that we won't fuck."

Amelie placed her glass of champagne beside Marjorie's and went to her bedroom upstairs. Marjorie waited back in the living room, watching the fireworks through the crystal clear windows whilst finishing off her champagne when Amelie returned after nearly ten minutes, coming up behind Marjorie and began stroking her fingers through her hair. Marjorie looked over her shoulder to see Amelie before completely turning around to see her donning an entirely black suit with her curled hair placed over her shoulder.

"You look stunning, Amelie," Marjorie said, taking her final drink. "Are you going to fuck yourself, then?" Amelie responded to Marjorie by pulling her closer towards her to kiss her on the neck. Marjorie had enjoyed it—but despite what she told Amelie she didn't want it to end, until she gently released herself from Amelie's grip. "I'm not in the mood for it, alright? I know you have been desperate for it but there's other nights. Goodnight, babe." It was now after midnight and Marjorie kissed Amelie on her cheek before walking to her bedroom to sleep, and Amelie soon followed.

Marjorie awoke that night at nearly four, lying on her back with boredom from the darkness and silence in the room. Multiple thoughts had crossed her mind before she turned towards Amelie, who had been already facing in Marjorie's direction, sleeping heavily like she normally would. The faint glow of the moonlight through the curtains had given Marjorie only a small amount of light to see Amelie. She began to play with Amelie's long hair and then placed her hand on her waist which the touch of it had caused Amelie to slightly move, but it hadn't awaken her. Marjorie decided she would shut her eyes in an attempt to get back to sleep when she heard her name in a whisper. She opened her eyes again to see Amelie looking at her.

"Could we fuck now?" Marjorie softly asked her. Suddenly Amelie began to move towards her in a way that made Marjorie lie on her back again. Marjorie held onto her neck when they kissed before breaking it.

"Are you sure about this now?" Amelie asked. "I do have more energy than you think, Marjorie." Marjorie simply nodded, and when they began to kiss again they had started to remove their clothing from each other. They had just managed to become undressed before gently gripping each other and continued to kiss. Their sex had been like it always had—Amelie would kiss Marjorie in places she was comfortable with, they were never harsh with each other, and Amelie knew how to give Marjorie an orgasm that could also cause her to have one. They had finished fifteen minutes later before they once again kissed each other before closing their eyes to get more sleep.

* * *

One week passed—still no sign of crime from Marjorie. That was what had been, until she began to notice Amelie felt uneasy, like she was becoming increasingly nervous. She had seemed as if she was trying to hide it but was unsuccessful with doing so.

"Amelie, I know something's wrong," Marjorie said to her. "What is it, babe? You shouldn't be afraid of telling me."

"Tomorrow is eight years since I nearly killed James," Amelie said. "What I didn't tell you was he had met another woman in Paris. At the same time I became very interested in the beauty of women. But what he did made me fucking mad. Quite the drama for adolescents like we were, I must say."

"And you're upset about this?" Marjorie asked.

"It happens every year, Marjorie," She said. "Every fucking year and the thought becomes intense and the feelings I had on that day come back."

"And what if we took care of that?" Marjorie asked her, smirking with mischief.

"Marjorie!" Amelie exclaimed. "He's a friend."

"A friend who once fucked up," said Marjorie. "Where does he live?"

"In Aurora, like you did," She said. "But if I told you where, what would you do?"

"What _you_ would do, Amelie, is what you wanted," Marjorie said. "Did he fuck her?"

"..He did, and was wed to her for two years," Amelie said. "He has mentioned you're quite sexy, which he isn't wrong about."

"And I'm going to use that to our advantage." She said.

Marjorie explained her idea to Amelie, to which she had agreed to it. They would wait until the next two days after for it to commence. Marjorie allowed Amelie to wear her faux leather jumpsuit, while she chose to wear leggings made of the same material, but matched a black button-up dress shirt with it; they both had finished their looks with black pleather ankle boots and had done their makeup. She had only kept three out of the five buttons undone, but wore a long coat over it. She let Amelie make a selection from her masks as well, and chose one herself before they finally departed for Aurora. Amelie told James they would be coming, but he was unaware of what would come after their arrival.

They arrived at his house, which Amelie had said he purchased himself as he came from wealth, but he had yet to find someone he would marry.

"Bonjour, James," Amelie said to him. "This is Marjorie, or as you may know, that woman from the hotel bar. And she thinks you're quite handsome."

"And she is quite beautiful," He said. "Especially when she isn't six feet from me. It's nice to meet you, Marjorie."

James invited them inside where they had a casual conversation until Marjorie gave Amelie her subtle hint to let her know she was ready. She had told her that when she wanted their plan to unfold, she would gently nudge Amelie. When she did it, Amelie had suddenly looked down at her phone, saying she received a call from another friend. She stepped out the side door to "take the call," leaving Marjorie with James.

"You're very beautiful, Marjorie," James said. "How did you and Amelie become such close friends, anyway?"

"It began at the hotel, where you saw me," She said. "Or in the restroom at the bar, I should say. She and I began talking from there and I've learned lots about you."

"I would like to know something, Marjorie," He said. "She's not angry about that one day we had in France together, is she? I understand it was eight years ago, but she has entirely become a different and overall better person since then, wouldn't you think?"

"I've known her for four months, James," She said. "But I could agree with you, in a way." As Marjorie was finishing her sentence she removed her coat, exposing her cleavage that she intentionally wanted to be seen from the way she had buttoned her shirt. They stared at each other in the eyes for a short time before James had began to move closer to her, which Marjorie had expected, and Amelie had promised to her that she wouldn't be angry if James and her kissed; she generously thought he should have a chance to kiss another woman before he met his fate. Marjorie had seen Amelie out the window, still faking a phone call as she was looking inside. She turned away as she saw James place his a hand on Marjorie's waist, the other behind her neck to bring her closer. They kissed, and as they stood there Amelie had watched through the window as they continued to converse.

"Could I take you to dinner, Marjorie?" James asked her.

"It's a bit early for that, don't you think?" She asked him, slowly looking down as to quickly signal Amelie to return. "We only just met in person and not from a distance, James."

Marjorie suddenly looked up at him, placing her hand on her back pocket where she stored a pocket knife if she needed it. James had continued speaking to her when Amelie quietly walked inside, pulling a pocket knife—loaned to her by Marjorie—from a pocket beside her thigh and came up behind James and stabbed him in the back twice. Marjorie stared at him in the eyes with a smug look on her face as James felt his wounds on his back, before Marjorie grabbed him by his shoulders to turn him towards Amelie, when she raised the knife to stab him again, this time near his collarbone, and pulled it out of him despite how deep it had gone. He was lying on the rug as he had tried to cover the wound, while Amelie and Marjorie equipped their masks as they were about to leave. His blood had begun to soak into the rug while forming a puddle on the wooden floor.

" _Connard!_ " Amelie said to him in French with the knife still in her hand.

"Damnit, Amelie!" James exclaimed as he was struggling to breathe properly.

Marjorie and her girlfriend removed their masks as they left through the front door. As James was alone he had been unable to get help for himself and took his final breaths in the spot where he stood with Marjorie. They immediately left for Westport as to not linger in Aurora; it would become dangerous for them.

"Holy shit, Amelie," Marjorie said. "You just killed someone."

"I don't fucking believe it," She said. "Why did you keep a knife on you if you didn't use it?"

"He wanted us to go on a date together," Marjorie replied. "Or he could have thought we could fuck. You should have seen how many times he panned his eyes between my eyes and my body."

"You do look quite good, Marjorie," Amelie said. "How many times?"

"About five," She said. "That was before he kissed me, and I saw you turn away."

"I wanted him to have a chance, my love," Amelie said. "He wasn't married or seeing anyone."

"If he were to touch me any place else I would have pulled my knife on him," Marjorie said. "He touched my shoulder and my shirt near my chest. I would have held the knife to his neck."

"What was that kiss like?" Amelie asked her.

"Excuse me?" Marjorie said. "You promised you wouldn't be upset, Amelie."

"And I am not," She said. "I kissed him when I was fifteen. It's been eight years."

"He didn't kiss like you can," Marjorie said, sighing with relief to hear Amelie wasn't mad. "I didn't want to know how he could fuck."

"Not that I would have allowed that to happen," Amelie said. "I once hit him in the groin with my knee."

"Did you and him ever..fuck?" Marjorie asked.

"We were fifteen!" Amelie said, almost shouting. "But no, we didn't want to fuck. I learned of my love for women the day after I tried to kill him."

It was four days after they left James's house when he was discovered. His neighbor had walked over to his home and knocked on his door. No answer. She knocked while saying his name. No answer. Another neighbor had been passing by while on a walk and had seen her, who had asked her about the situation. She said to the woman that "James wasn't responding" and together they tried to look through any windows and enter through the front door; Amelie had locked it when she and Marjorie left. Finally they entered through the small gate at the back of his house; the side door hadn't been locked. As they entered they noticed the foul scent lingering in the room before turning the corner where he had been. _H_ _e's_ _dead!_ were the words one of them exclaimed. The entire state had learned of James's death and Marjorie told Amelie when she had found out about it. Amelie was almost worried that people had known but not Marjorie. She thought for them it had been the best of times, the worst of crimes, and it had only just begun for them.

Their first crime together had been like they struck a match and were about to create some light.


End file.
